Oscar by Susan & Don Courtney / Mom, Dad and Felix

Two days before Halloween in 1997 as I was walking to lunch with a group of teachers we noticed two little black kittens darting in and out of heavy traffic on one of L.A.’s busiest streets. When their mother did not show up to claim her kittens it became obvious that these two kitties, who fit into the palm of my hand, were abandoned. After taking them to the vet and finding out they were near death and extremely anemic from being covered from head to tail with fleas, my husband and
I decided to adopt these two brothers.

They reminded us of the odd couple so we named them Oscar and Felix. Oscar was the smaller of the two kitties but fearless. He started talking almost immediately and let anyone who would listen know what he wanted. A few quick mews meant, “Here I am so pet me.” He loved being stroked under the chin, on the side of his mouth and on his rump. While he never wanted to wander farther than the front door, his two favorite places were in front on the fireplace (one long and drawn out mew for turn on the fire) and on a chase lounge chair on our balcony.

He loved sitting outside watching the people walk by, birds fly by and squirrels climb up and down the trees. Although he let everyone know who was the king of the balcony with several long and high pitched MEOWS. He always cuddled up inside my left arm and slept with us on the bed nightly. The minute one of us stirred however, he bolted up and began insisting on getting his breakfast first. He had a peculiar palette for a kitty, his favorite food was tomato soup.

He and his brother were inseparable and always insisted on traveling together in the same carrier until it became impossible to carry.

If one ever had to go to the vet without the other they both howled until they were reunited. When they did have to travel in separate carriers they insisted on facing each other so they could talk back-and-forth to each other. When Oscar wasn’t curled up in my arms or out on his lounge chair, he could be found snuggling up to his brother Felix near the fire or on the bed.

When Oscar became ill his brother stayed near him up until the last day. On that day Felix refused to go near his brother and hissed and cried all night. Oscar’s death has hit us all hard, he was only six years old (much too young to die from chronic renal failure – but it happened).

Felix is lost without his brother and won’t let me leave a room without running after me. Every night he still calls out for his brother, perhaps feeling his spirit throughout the house (or so we would like to believe).

Oscar’s ashes are home and have been placed above the fireplace so he can still be near one of his favorite places and feel the warmth of our everlasting love. We miss you dearly and love you eternally!


Sleep peacefully our little hijo - we love you,
Susan & Don Courtney